


For Want Of A Squirrel

by orphan_account



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Belligerent Sexual Tension, M/M, Mooseley, Rom-com, cas is done with everything, forced team-up, snark everywhere, stuck parenting together, the boys are keeping secrets but what's new?
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-10-24
Updated: 2015-11-09
Packaged: 2018-04-27 21:58:10
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,662
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5065906
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Crowley needs help raising the increasingly problematic Amara. Unfortunately for him, Dean isn't available at the moment…</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

♪ But I can change, I can chaaaaaaange! I can learn to keep my promises, I swear it! ♪

Sam rolled his eyes and picked up the phone. "Gotta get a less sarcastic ringtone for that jerk." He thought as he answered.

"Hello, Crowley." Sam said, irritated.

"Hello, Moose." Crowley said gruffly over the phone. "I tried calling your brother, but he's not picking up his phone…"

"He's a bit preoccupied with the entity we actually like. Plus, he might be a bit irritated that you won't answer your phone. Dick."

\---

All the way down in Hell, Crowley rolled his eyes. "Castiel…" He mouthed, bitter and mocking. "I love you, too, Prick. Look, I need a little help with something Darkness-related, so could you…?"

"We're both trying to get The Darkness. Anything you can tell him, you can tell me." Sam said, annoyed.

Crowley sighed. "I currently have Amara under my watchful eye, but she's proving…"

Crowley looked across the room at the now teenage Amara. She was inhaling one of Crowley's subjects nonchalantly. When the poor scum was dead, she let him fall over and looked over at him, smiling "innocently".

"…Difficult."

Sam's eyes widened. "YOU'VE HAD THE DARKNESS WITH YOU THIS WHOLE TIME!?"

"Well, it's only been a few days for you, but yes. Now, if you could get your brother…"

"Oh-ho no." Sam said. "Why do you need my brother?"

"Sorry, Moose. I don't need your help. You're on probation after that stunt you pulled with the hex bag. Besides, Dean's the better man for the job. The Darkness adores him."

Sam went quiet on the other end. Something told Crowley Sam wasn't completely privy to that information. Interesting. "Look, I'm sorry, okay…" Sam said with an exasperated sigh.

"Oh, so much sincerity in that tone…" Crowley said sarcastically, he leaned against his hand on his throne, rolling his eyes.

"…Shut up." Sam said firmly. "This whole mess is my fault. And I want to fix it. And do whatever it takes to protect my brother. So JUST. TELL. ME."

Crowley smirked. He loved riling Sam up like this. And he loved when people got desperate. Made them malleable.

The demon weighed his options. As much as he (and Amara) preferred Dean, it would do him some good to keep a wild card like Sam in his sights as often as possible. Maybe he could even twist Sam to his will.

And if not, he was an expendable candidate for Amara to eat. Sam was much more fun soulless…

"Tell you what, Samantha. I believe Amara needs another strong parental figure in her life. The girl needs a mother. I don't suppose you could come down here and help?"

\---

Sam twitched at the suggestion. "What?" He hissed.

"You heard me. You did say you'd do anything for Dean. It's either this or meeting me in a hotel room, in leather pants, with the best hookers money can buy. Your choice, darling."

Sam thought hard. He didn't want Dean to have anything more to do with Crowley. Dean teaming up with Crowley is what led them in this whole "Darkness" mess in the first place. (Well, that and Sam's plan to rid Dean of The Mark…) But was he really going to help The King of Hell? The demon he wanted dead the most?

He could hear Dean and Cas in the hallway. He swore under his breath.

"I'm waiting…" Crowley said, playfully.

"FINE!" Sam said.

Sam could hear Crowley chuckle. "Excellent. So, what time can you come over?"

"Midnight. I'll summon you. Also, Dean can't know."

"But early to keep secrets from him, isn't it?"

"Do you want my damn help or not?"

"…Very well. See you tonight." Crowley hung up.

Sam got off the phone and sighed. Dean and Cas entered the room.

"Who were you talking to?" Dean asked.

Sam turned around. "No one. Wrong number." He said.

Cas squinted at Sam. He knew that tone in his voice. He rolled his eyes and mouthed: "Secrets? Again? Seriously, Sam?" He looked over at Dean. "Dean, I have the feeling I'm going to need copious amounts of alcohol…"

\---

Crowley, meanwhile, tried to relax.

Unfortunately, given the way Anara was eying Crowley's favorite shoemaker, he knew it was going to be a long time until midnight.

He just hoped Archibald at least had his new Italian leather shoes ready. 

It'd be a shame to waste the perfectly good skin of an Italian man.


	2. The Stench Of Summer Saxx

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The plot begins only to get distracted. Blame a tumblr post.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Edit: FIXED THE DATE ON THE THING! MY BAD!

That night, Sam packed a duffel bag, left a note in his room "just in case", and got ready to head out. He made sure Dean was asleep and Cas was otherwise occupied. It seemed the angel downed one too many shots at the bar. Sam exited The Bunker and went out into the woods.

Sam knew the way well from his morning jogs. He navigated his way to the clearing, then set up he supplies to summon Crowley. "ALRIGHT, I'M READY! ANY TIME NOW, YOU…"

"Language, Sam." Crowley chided, appearing in front of him. He looked around. "What, did you decide to kill me and leave me to rot?"

"Like I'm going to summon you in The Bunker. I'm not stupid…"

"Except when it comes to your brother." Crowley said.

Sam scowled. (Unfortunately, the demon did have a point.)

"Anyway," Crowley said, "We'd best be off before Amara starts eating the new souls…"

Sam grabbed his bag and nodded.

"She's driving me nuts…" Crowley gave Sam a look. "She'll probably like you."

Sam rolled his eyes.

And with a snap of Crowley's fingers, they disappeared from Earth.

\---

Amara folded her arms, looking less than impressed. "Who's that?"

"Amara, sweetie, this is Sam Winchester. He's going to be helping us out for a while."

Amara squinted. "I don't like him." She said bluntly, and walked off.

Crowley groaned. "Tweens…"

Sam raised an eyebrow. "She's… Not a little kid anymore…"

"Obviously. She's a growing girl…"

"Yeah…" Sam said, his brow furrowing.

"Well, let me show you to your room." Crowley said, taking Sam by the arm. "I figure you can stay here a couple days at a time, no real time's going to pass up top, so your brother won't know."

Sam nodded. "Fair enough."

Crowley led him down a hall to an open room. To say Crowley gave him the bare essentials was an understatement. Crowley provided Sam with a barely big enough cot, a blanket, a lamp, a small drawer, and a mini-fridge. It didn't even have a door. Just a curtain.

"I see you spared every expense…" Sam said flatly as he threw his duffel bag on the bed, making the whole thing shake and creak.

"What can I say? When you're holding a grudge…" Crowley walked over to the bag. "Can I make sure you didn't pack anything that could kill me?"

Sam rolled his eyes and acquiesced.

Crowley dug around the bag and pulled out Sam's clothes with disgust. Then he paused. 

"Oh my…"

"What?"

Crowley pulled out a pair of Sam's boxers and turned around, dangling it from his finger with a smirk. "Even your boxers are plaid…"

Sam snatched them away from Crowley, his face beet red.

"And my my my… They're designer…" Crowley purred.

Sam just glared at him.

"Well, you have no weapons on you, kudos for not trying to kill me for once."

Sam didn't mention how he wasn't sure if anything could kill Crowley, given their last encounter.

A group of scantily clad demons entered the room. One, a rather sculpted and tan man, spoke up. "Sir, we're ready to…" They noticed Sam. "Oh, we didn't realize you were implementing shifters this time…"

"No, no. Sam is a guest." Crowley said. "And he'll play nice as long as you play nice…" He said in a warning tone, both to Sam and the demons.

The demons nodded. "We'll… Be in your chambers…" They then scurried off like roaches in the light.

Crowley turned back to Sam, loosing his tie. "Sorry. I have a meeting with some succubi and incubi. And by meeting, I mean an orgy."

Sam nodded, stuffing his underwear in his pocket. "I figured."

"…You're welcome to join."

"I think I'll just… I'm going to hit the hay."

Crowley shrugged and left the room.

Sam turned his attention back to the room. He inspected the mini fridge. It held only three cups of to-go salad, a box of granola bars, and a six pack of light beer.

Sam groaned and closed the curtain as he stripped and flopped on the cot.

\---

The morning after Crowley's orgy, he was displeased to find Amara standing at the foot of his bed.

"AMARA! What has Uncle Crowley told you about coming in when he has a tie on the door?"

"Make Sam go away. I don't like him. I want Dean, instead."

"Don't we all?" Crowley said, snapping on a robe. "Look, he'll only be here a few days. Then he'll be out of our hair."

Amara rolled her eyes. "I'm going to get breakfast, now." She grabbed a succubus on her way to the door and inhaled what remained of her and her vessel's souls. Then The Darkness left.

Crowley groaned as he looked at the succubus's lifeless body. 

"And she was so flexible, too…"

Crowley got dressed and headed for Sam's room, he opened the curtain.

"Alright, Sam, time to put this into act-oh…"

Crowley walked in on Sam mid-dressing. He had been buttoning up his shirt, but neglected to put on his jeans. Apparently Sam liked to match his shirts with his boxers.

Crowley's throat went dry.

"CROWLEY!" Sam shouted, frozen and bewildered like a moose in the headlights.

Crowley simultaneously had a million snarky and innuendo-laden comments to make, and no words to speak whatsoever. He just closed the curtain and stood there until Sam shouted that he could still see his silhouette.

When Crowley walked away, he finally found the words:

"Those fit you nicely."


End file.
